


A Time of Peace

by purple_bookcover



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, rodrigue is NOT dad of the year in this one, the rest of the blue lions are present, touch-starved felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22805368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: The Blue Lions are returning to the monastery after five years, just as they all promised. But Felix has seen too much in that time. He is a stranger among them, still mentally trapped on a bloody battlefield somewhere. Ashe is the only one who seems to see it and he wants to help.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 86





	A Time of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> This is for TsarAlek, who won my Valentine's Giveaway! He asked for a hurt, touch-starved Felix who is comforted and loved on by Ashe. In true Valentine's fashion, it is sappy and soft as fuck. Hope you enjoy and that it's what you were going for, Alek.

They stood in a cluster, hugging, laughing, joking. Their voices rang hollow against the pockmarked stone of the destroyed monastery. There was something ghastly in it, something sharp and wheezing and thin. If they'd seen half of what Felix had in the past five years, they couldn't possibly laugh with any mirth.

Felix lingered outside the group of former Blue Lions reuniting in the ruins of the Officers Academy. They'd all returned, just as promised. Everyone except Dedue. Felix tried not to think too hard about that. He'd seen enough death firsthand; he didn't need to also imagine a companion's demise. 

“Oh, Felix is here.” 

Ashe stepped away from the group, waving for Felix to join them. He'd changed, Felix saw as he approached. Taller, leaner in the face, broader in the shoulders. It seemed the war had even managed to reach sweet, noble Ashe. 

“Felix, you're looking just as chipper as ever,” Sylvain said. He went to pat at Felix's shoulder, but Felix flinched away from the touch. Sylvain set his hands on his hips instead. “Just as prickly, too.”

Felix ignored him. He didn't owe Sylvain a false smile. He didn't owe any of them so much as a “hello.”

Why, then, had he returned? He could have stayed away. There were plenty of battlefields to disappear on now. He could just as easily have never returned. Perhaps that's what Dedue had done, wisely, just kept fighting out there somewhere, anonymous and forgotten. 

Some part of Felix envied him that choice, if it was true. And the other part … The other part had led him here, to the worthless detritus of the crumbling monastery and these people he'd once known. 

Dimitri regarded him with the one eye he had left, the other either gone or damaged beyond usefulness. 

“You returned,” Dimitri said. 

“Yeah,” Felix said. 

“Hm.” 

Felix refused to back away from the questions in that steely blue eye. As Dimitri weighed him, it was like the man could hear the screams of all the people Felix had killed in the five years since they'd seen each other. He heard the voices of the dead, or so he said. In that moment, Felix believed him.

Felix folded first, looking away before Dimitri could pry more sins out of him. 

“Well, I suppose this is everyone,” Byleth said. 

“Yes,” Dimitri said. The finality of his tone left no doubt about the fate of the missing Dedue. 

Felix saw Ashe and Mercedes look down at that, saw Sylvain shift his feet and Ingrid fold her arms as though hugging herself, saw Annette start ringing her hands. 

“Very well,” Byleth said. 

And just that quickly, they were back to being Byleth's students, back to taking orders, back to planning for war. They would rebuild the Officers Academy, after a fashion, but this time it would be a war base rather than a school. 

Felix grit his teeth and did not speak. The others all watched Byleth like this was their salvation descended to earth. Even Dimitri softened as their former professor spoke. Most likely, none of them had spent as much time on a battlefield as Felix had in the five years since they'd seen each other. 

But, then, none of them were Rodrigue's son.

His father was determined to win the war _for_ Dimitri, or so it seemed from the thousand directions he sent Felix in. Every day, there was a new foe, a new battle that had to be fought. And Felix was on the front lines of every one, his sword so bloody he hardly remembered the shine of the steel beneath. 

It never got easier, not in his experience. Every scream, every anguished cry, every dying enemy who scrabbled at Felix as though he was both their doom and their final comfort—they echoed in Felix's mind each night. They haunted his steps each day. Dimitri may have heard ghosts, but Felix carried them on his back. 

He blinked and found Ashe watching him. Felix scowled. Ashe had always been more perceptive than most. Though his face had matured, his eyes were just the same as ever: Too bright, too piercing, hot and cold all at once, like unfiltered sunlight in the middle of winter. How could he see so much and not be broken by it? 

Felix grimaced, turned away, started to leave the little group behind.

“Hey, where are you going?” Sylvain called.

Felix did not bother to respond.

#

There was a balcony on the third floor of the monastery. Felix had seen it once, when his father was visiting Rhea. An official visit. Rodrigue had urged Felix to tag along and get a taste of the duties of a duke, duties he'd someday inherit, now that Glenn was gone.

It had all seemed so pointless back then. It still did. Why should he learn to rule when he was destined to die in battle? 

He crossed his arms. The air was cooler up here on the exposed balcony. The gardens were brown and overgrown, neglected as they'd been for the past five years. Algae fringed the statues. The patterned stonework beneath Felix's feet was cracked. Weeds pushed up between brick and stone. 

Felix tested the railing before leaning against it, but it felt sturdy enough. Below, the monastery was quiet; the eight of them who'd returned hardly filled a school that had once housed hundreds of students and faculty members. 

Yet even in a place so sparse, someone found him. Felix tensed when he heard footsteps on the stone. He expected to find Sylvain when he turned, or perhaps Ingrid, but it was Ashe who stood at the other end of the balcony. 

He approached, carrying a plate. “Hungry?” he said.

“No.” 

“Ah, well.” Ashe set the plate on the railing. A potato sat split open and steaming in the cool night, stuffed with vegetables and topped with some sort of thick brown gravy. “If you get hungry later.” 

“Hm.” Despite himself, Felix's stomach clenched at the smell of the gravy. How long had it been since he'd had a meal that wasn't hard rations? 

Ashe did not say more, just stood beside him, looking out over the monastery. At first, Felix found it strange, uncomfortable, but the quiet felt so natural that the abrasiveness could not linger long. Felix even started picking at the potato. The gravy had bits of meat in it; the potato was salted and buttered. It was nearly decadent. Felix felt his sense of taste flare back to life after years of disuse. 

Ashe was watching him when he finished. “Any good?” Ashe said. “I didn't have much to work with.” 

Felix set the plate aside, struggling not to lick his fingers. He scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah. It was OK.”

Ashe just smiled, facing the night once more. Stars had begun to prickle the deepening navy of the sky. The moon cut a crescent in the curtain of darkness making the abandoned monastery feel even larger, even more haunted. Felix shivered thinking of the night to come.

Even so, he felt weariness seep into his body, into legs that had marched all over the continent, arms that had swung a sword more times than he could count, shoulders carrying the burden of too many ghosts everywhere he went. 

“I should find somewhere to sleep,” Felix muttered.

“Ah, yeah, I suppose you're right.”

Felix had almost forgotten Ashe was still there until he spoke. Ashe pushed away from the balcony railing. “I hope you're doing well, Felix,” Ashe said. “You didn't say much today.”

Felix shrugged. Ashe didn't seem like he was going to push. That should have relieved him, but for some reason he just wanted Ashe to keep staring through him with those minty eyes, seeing past his clenched teeth and plucking out the words bitten back behind them. 

He reached for Felix, slow, cautious. Felix did not flinch away and Ashe set a hand gently on his shoulder. “I'm glad you came back,” Ashe said. “It's good to see you.” 

“Sure,” Felix said, even though what he meant was why? How? Who in all the world could think seeing him was “good?” Most simply thought it meant more bloodshed, more death. And they were right. 

Felix felt cold when Ashe withdrew his hand to gather up the plate and leave.

Felix caught him by the shoulder. 

Ashe looked just as surprised as Felix felt, but he stopped, turned back to Felix. 

Felix jerked his hand back as though burned. “Sorry, I...” 

Ashe said nothing, watching him with those damn eyes of his. 

“Stay,” Felix said. 

“OK,” Ashe said. 

“T-tonight,” Felix said. “I want you to … stay with me.” He was grinding his teeth so hard he thought they might break. 

Ashe smiled. He set the plate on the ground and offered his hand. Felix took it, marveling at how it could still be so soft while having gained so many callouses. Ashe did not pull or urge, but when he started walking, Felix followed, trying not to think about what he was doing, the words that had burst out of him, the desperate keen of his request. 

_This is pathetic,_ some voice inside him said. Whether it was his own, his father's, someone else's, he could not say. Perhaps it was one of his ghosts, watching in judgment as he let Ashe lead him back inside and to the double doors at the end of the hall.

Ashe dropped Felix's hand and dug in his pocket. Then he started working at the lock on the door. 

“What are you...” 

The lock clicked and Ashe pushed the doors to Rhea's personal chambers open. 

Ashe smirked. “Always wanted to see what this place looked like.” He slipped into the bedroom. “You coming?” 

Felix's feet moved before his brain could scream at him to stop. Ashe locked the door behind them, then started rummaging around for candles. Finding none, he tugged open the curtains over the massive window at the far end of the room.

Starlight traced the faint outline of a large bed draped in gauze riddled with holes. Even coated in a layer of dust, the room was finer than the chambers of his father's fortress back in Fraldarius. Rhea had lived in luxury, from the furs on the floor, to the tall cabinet inlaid with gold in the corner, to the tapestry warming one wall. 

Felix stood before the tapestry. It was difficult to make out the scene in the dark, but he could recognize a battle when he saw one. Winged creatures descended on a world consumed by flames. Humans fled, or fought, or both; it was difficult to tell the difference when most of the figures on the tapestry were either holding swords or impaled on them. Several people lay under the feet of those still fighting, being trampled even as they died from their wounds.

Felix shivered. It was far too familiar. 

Ashe came up beside him. He made a disapproving little noise in this throat. “Who would keep this in their bed chambers? She could have had anything and she chose this for the place where she rested.” 

He started tugging on the tapestry. 

“What are you doing?” Felix said.

“Taking it down,” Ashe said. “If we're staying here tonight, I don't want to wake up and find this thing staring at me.” 

Felix blinked. Staying here tonight. Together. Ripping down Rhea's tapestry. Felix wasn't sure which implication of what Ashe had said startled him most. 

Even so, he moved to help. Together, they pulled down the ghastly tapestry, rolled it up and shoved it in a corner. 

Ashe smiled at him afterward. “There. That's so much better. Don't you think?”

“What are you doing?” Felix said. He couldn't take it anymore. It was all too strange.

“What do you mean?”

“Why … why are you here? With me? Why didn't you leave? Why did you look at me that way earlier? Why did you bring me food? What is this?”

Ashe shrugged. “Can't I just want to help?”

“But why?”

Ashe looked sad suddenly. He stepped close to Felix, took Felix's hands in his. The touch was so gentle it nearly made Felix reel away, but he held his ground. 

“It makes me sad that you think I need a reason,” Ashe said. “You asked me to stay. And I'm here. Isn't that enough?”

“No,” Felix said. 

“Why?” 

“Because...” Felix glanced at the horrible rolled up tapestry. Even with it shoved away, the battle scene played out in his mind alongside so, so many others on constant loop. “Because you shouldn't want to.”

Ashe said nothing, just watched him, holding his hands lightly. He started to move toward the bed and Felix found he was helpless to do anything but follow. 

“Sit,” Ashe said. Felix obeyed. 

Ashe kneeled on the floor and started to work at Felix's spats, tugging off the boots beneath. Then, he removed the spats themselves before standing back up and starting at the armor across Felix's chest. 

“What are you doing?” Felix said as Ashe worked the buckle loose and dropped the soft leather to the floor.

Ashe stopped, his fingers toying with the clasps on Felix's jacket. “I'm going to take care of you. OK?” 

“That's ridiculous,” Felix said. 

Ashe backed away, leaving the clasps. Felix felt a pang of regret, but then Ashe sat beside him on the bed, so close their shoulders touched. “Is it?” 

“Yes,” Felix said. “I don't need you taking care of me.” 

“I know,” Ashe said. “Sometimes it's nice to get things you don't need.” 

“What does that mean?” But Felix's voice betrayed him, coming out breathier than he intended, lower. 

Ashe heard it, smiled at the corners of his mouth. He reached, fingers skimming along Felix's jaw. Then Ashe kissed him, soft as eyelashes, a warm breath along Felix's lips. 

“What do you want it to mean?” Ashe said, so close the words puffed against Felix's skin, hot from more than just his breath. 

Felix's throat closed up around any response he might have offered then. His body answered for him. He grabbed at Ashe's jacket, yanked him close. But he had no idea what to do with that. It had been so long since he'd experienced any touch that was not a slap on the back or the strike of an enemy. So he merely gripped Ashe's jacket, struggling not to pant, hands quivering around the cloth. 

Ashe set a hand atop Felix's, gently easing him away. He stood and for a moment Felix felt bereft of his warmth. Then Ashe started undoing the buttons down his long jacket. He let it fall to the floor, tugging off his boots as well before he approached Felix, still sitting at the edge of the bed. 

This time, when Ashe started at the clasps of Felix's cloak and jacket, Felix did not stop him, just sat mute and still. He swore Ashe must have been able to hear him swallowing, must have found his lack of reaction vexing. But if he did Ashe gave no sign of it. He got Felix down to just his shirt and trousers, then, he paused. 

“Do you want me to keep going?” Ashe said. 

“I want...” Felix didn't know how to articulate what he wanted. He didn't even know _what_ he wanted just then. Ashe. Just Ashe. Whatever that meant. 

Ashe kissed him, soft and sweet and brief. “I want to do everything for you tonight. Everything I want. Everything you want. Everything you need. I want to be here in every way I can. And not out of charity.” His eyes flickered down Felix's body. “I've … I've thought about you since we were just students. I've wanted you for so long. But you have to tell me you want me, too.” 

Felix pried his jaw apart. It was like forcing open a chest, twisting until the lock snapped. “I want you,” he managed, a rasp torn from deep in his chest. 

Ashe smiled. It was beautiful, Felix thought. His genuine joy, his smattering of freckles like starlight dusting his cheeks, his hot and cold eyes making Felix burn and shiver all at once. It had been so long since Felix had seen anything beautiful that he'd nearly forgotten what it might look like. 

Ashe straightened, quickly shucking aside his shirt. Felix could have wept at the beauty that waited beneath. Ashe had gotten stronger in the past five years, that much was abundantly clear. He was still lean, but muscle corded up his arms like rope. Freckles splattered down his neck and across his chest. Felix followed them until they disappeared into the waistband of his pants. 

Ashe stepped close again, perhaps meaning to get at Felix's shirt, but Felix grabbed him by the hips before he could, kissing at the freckles that dipped along his hip bone. Ashe gasped as Felix licked at a freckle in the divot beside his hip, then sucked as though attempting to hold the taste in his mouth. 

Ashe shoved him back, his strength a bit surprising even after Felix had gotten a look at his body. He crawled over Felix, getting his shirt off and tossing it into the dark. Ashe kissed down Felix's throat, nipping at the soft space between shoulder and neck. Felix heard himself whine. He wrapped his arms around Ashe, holding him close, rolling up against him so their bodies met.

Ashe paused. Felix kept holding him, panting for breath, letting their chests press closer on each gasping inhale. He felt like he could stay like this, holding Ashe against him, feeling Ashe nuzzle at his neck. It was so much more than he'd had any reason to hope for in the past five years. 

Ashe stroked his face. Felix opened his eyes to find Ashe studying him as he pet Felix's cheek. He looked nearly as content as Felix felt. 

He smiled before he kissed Felix again. This time, though, he prodded at Felix's mouth, his tongue slipping inside when Felix relented. Felix lay still, too unprepared to do anything but weather the sensation of Ashe exploring his mouth with lips and tongue. 

Ashe broke away slowly, sitting up, guiding Felix up with him. Ashe sat in Felix's lap. And still Felix was useless, simply watching while Ashe reached for the tie in Felix's hair. He tugged. Felix's hair fell loose, a soft cascade of inky blue in the dark. 

Ashe inhaled. Then he got his hands in Felix's hair, combing with his fingers in slow, luxurious strokes. Felix closed his eyes, feeling the tingles that rippled down from his scalp as Ashe ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Goddess.” Ashe said it so reverently it sounded like a prayer. “I always wondered.” 

Felix couldn't summon any response. 

“It's so lovely,” Ashe said. He kept combing as he spoke, his voice as soft as his hands. “It's gotten so long. I've always wondered what it would be like to touch your hair like this.” 

Ashe leaned forward. His nose nuzzled against Felix's neck, close to his hair. Felix felt his own hands moving, tracing along Ashe's bare back, stumbling down to his hips.

Ashe murmured against him, close at his ear, and rocked his hips. Felix tried to quiet the shaking in his hands as he let them wander lower, let himself feel the swell of Ashe's ass beneath his hands. Some part of him screamed; some part of him howled that he should run, he should leave, he should jump out of the tall window before he could break this lovely creature. 

But Ashe licked at his ear, tugged on the lobe with his teeth. He ground his hips back, rubbing against Felix's hands, rocking in his lap. 

“I want you to touch me,” Ashe said at his ear. “I want to feel your hands on me. I want you to have everything.”

Felix felt his chest quivering, felt his jaw locking up around words he dared not utter. He wrapped his arms around Ashe, pulled him close, buried his face against his chest. He kissed any bit of skin he could reach, even as Ashe pet his hair, kissing the top of his head. 

“Let me make you feel good,” Ashe said. 

Felix loosened his hold. Ashe guided him down onto his back. He must have seen the fear in Felix's eyes, the specters haunting his thoughts, because he kissed him again before trailing down his neck, his collar, his chest. Ashe's soft trail of kisses were small reassurances, promises that he would not leave for long. His mouth and hands were always close, always prepared to pull Felix back into this unlikely moment atop Rhea's bed, the moonlight shimmering through the veil of gauze hanging like smoke around them. 

Ashe reached his trousers and started to remove them. Felix sat up a little. Ashe watched him, searching for any sign of reluctance. But trepidation was not the same as reluctance and Ashe saw that, continued until Felix lay naked beneath him. 

Ashe paused, eyes roaming up and down Felix's lean, scarred body. His fingertips grazed old wounds, fresh bruises, ribs a bit too visible. Felix tensed, waiting for condemnation and questions. He knew the horrible story his body told, knew the sins it revealed, stark even in the darkness. 

“You are so lovely,” Ashe said. 

Felix nearly choked on the lump that blocked his throat. “Liar.” 

Ashe laughed gently. He ran his hand down Felix's chest and across his stomach, to his hips. “Do you think I'm lying?” 

Felix looked at those minty eyes watching him through the dark. “No,” he said. 

Ashe smiled, sincere, immaculate. “Good.” 

His hand wandered across Felix's hip, fingertips grazing the skin stretched from one bony protrusion to the other. Felix shivered. He felt his body respond in stops and starts, as though remembering how to feel aroused, how to feel loved. 

Ashe's hand strayed to Felix's cock, coaxing it along, stroking him to hardness. All the while, Ashe watched Felix. It should have been horrible, humiliating. But Ashe watched him like he'd watch a flower bloom in the sunlight as Felix started to pant and writhe under his attention. Felix arched into his hand, his body begging for more even while his mind reeled. All stray thought fled as Ashe indulged his desperate plea, pumping harder, squeezing, moving his hand faster while Felix grabbed at the bedsheets beneath him. 

All of a sudden, he stopped. Felix heard himself whimper as though struck. 

Felix forced his eyes open when he heard Ashe jump off the bed. He was rummaging around through his coat and he returned with a vial of oil. 

“I don't...” Felix said. “I mean, I've never … I'm not sure...”

“Don't worry,” Ashe said. “We're not going to do anything you're not ready for.” He poured the oil into his hands, then slicked up his fingers in particular. Ashe trailed a finger around Felix's rim, running it around the tight muscle there.

Felix inhaled sharply. His legs quivered, opening at the slightest nudge. Ashe positioned between Felix's knees, lowering to lick up Felix's cock while his slick finger still played around Felix's rim. But he never entered, never even teased at entering. 

Felix could take no more. “Please,” he rasped. “Please.” 

Ashe stopped licking at his cock. He propped himself up on one arm, gazing down at Felix. Then his finger started to push inside, slow and cautious. 

Felix shuddered, his breath ragged. Ashe curled his finger and Felix arched up, his cock twitching and leaking against his stomach. 

Ashe started slow, working that single finger, sliding in and out in a slow loop that tortured Felix each step of the way. It was like being dragged in and out by a tide trying to drown him. 

Ashe tested a second finger. It nudged inside and this time, when Ashe curled, Felix gasped a curse at the ceiling of the archbishop's bed chamber. His whole world condensed to those two clever fingers manipulating him so carefully and skillfully. It wasn't even a lot. Even Felix knew enough to know that, but every movement of those dexterous fingers seemed perfectly calculated to drag a cry from Felix's throat. 

One of many, many cries he might have—should have—uttered sooner. Cries of despair, of need, of lust, of hopelessness. Felix moaned with pleasure, even as he whimpered out his pain, the hurt nearly as sweet.

All the while, Ashe watched him. Felix could feel those cool eyes on him, watching the blush crawl up his neck, watching his mouth spill out gasps and groans, watching his eyes squeeze tightly shut. He didn't care anymore. Perhaps he should have, but there was no room for shame with Ashe toying with him like he was lock to be picked. 

A third finger found a way inside and Felix shuddered. 

“Oh, Ashe,” he sighed. 

“You're so lovely,” Ashe said. “Goddess, you're so lovely.” 

Felix felt a tear slip from his eye. Perhaps it was just the overwhelming combination of sensations. Perhaps it was the lightness in his mind clashing against the tension in his body. 

Whatever the reason, Ashe bent forward, kissing the wetness off his cheek before pressing against Felix's lips. 

“I'm going to finish you now, OK?”

“Yes, please.” Felix could find no shame for his begging. “Please.”

Ashe moved back down. His skillful fingers resumed their barrage on Felix's senses. But now his mouth also joined. Ashe licked up Felix's weeping cock even as he pumped his fingers into Felix's ass. 

Felix wanted it to last longer—forever, if it could. But it was too much. He had no defense for an attack such as this. His body tightened to breaking. Ashe licked more furiously, his fingers moving even faster. Felix bucked; his body jittered as he spilled against his stomach, arching up, crying out at the ceiling in a long, broken moan of Ashe's name. 

He relaxed back down, his body hollow, shivering. Ashe removed his fingers gently. 

Felix lay in the empty darkness behind his eyelids. Empty and quiet. He luxuriated in the waves of warmth rippling through his body, the calm tide rocking him. 

Ashe returned to the bed after a moment, snuggling up to Felix's side and stroking his hair. 

When Felix could, he opened his eyes and saw Ashe gazing down at him, smiling sweetly as he wound Felix's hair between his fingers. 

“I should do something for you,” Felix said.

Ashe put a hand on his chest, keeping him on his back. “Maybe in the morning.”

“But...”

“I'd love for you to,” Ashe said. “Don't misunderstand. But tonight I think it's better if you just rest.” 

Felix could not disagree, so he argued no further. 

They crawled under the dusty sheets of the massive bed. Felix lay on his side. Ashe's chest was against his back, his nose nuzzling in Felix's hair. Ashe kissed at his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Felix. 

That night, his mind was quiet. The ghosts kept their distance. The night lay docile. Still.

Peaceful.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!
> 
> Join the [Ashelix discord](https://discord.gg/cjFuCx) to hear my incoherent screeching about this rarepair!


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